Chapter 1- The wedding that wasn’t

The soft hum of the organ echoed through the grand church, mingling with the whispers of eager guests and the rustle of satin dresses. Everything was perfect—or at least, it appeared so on the surface. The ivory-colored roses, carefully chosen to match the lace on Natalie Harper's gown, lined the aisle. Gold-accented chairs formed neat rows, filled with family and friends who had traveled from near and far to witness her big day.

Natalie's heart should have been racing with excitement, but instead, it felt like a lead weight in her chest. She stood just outside the grand doors of the church, her fingers trembling as they clutched her bouquet. Her bridesmaids, Emma and Sophie, fussed around her, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her.

"Natalie, you look stunning," Emma said, fluffing the veil that cascaded down her back.

"Breathtaking," Sophie added with a smile.

Natalie forced a weak smile. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Her mind was elsewhere—on the letter she had found just hours before. It had been tucked into Jason's desk drawer, hidden beneath a pile of receipts and business cards. The words etched onto the page were now burned into her memory:

"Emily, you make me feel alive in a way I've never felt before. I can't wait to see you again. I miss you every second we're apart."

The name Emily played on repeat in her mind, each utterance slicing through her like a knife. Emily wasn't a friend, or a colleague, or a relative. Emily was something far worse—someone who had been occupying the space that should have belonged to Natalie alone.

Jason, her fiancé, had betrayed her.

"Natalie?" Emma's voice pulled her back to the present. "Are you ready? The ceremony's about to start."

Ready? Was she ready to commit her life to a man who had written love letters to someone else? A man who, even after months of wedding planning and promises, had been unfaithful?

She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I… I need a moment," she said, stepping away from the doors.

Emma and Sophie exchanged concerned glances but didn't press her. As Natalie paced the small entryway, her heels clicking against the marble floor, she tried to steady her breathing. She thought about confronting Jason, about demanding an explanation. But deep down, she already knew the truth. The letter was all the proof she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision.

Minutes later, the music shifted to the processional, signaling her cue to walk down the aisle. The grand doors opened, and all eyes turned toward her. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as Natalie stepped into view, her long train trailing behind her.

Jason stood at the altar, his expression lighting up as he saw her. He looked so handsome in his tailored tuxedo, so confident, so proud. And yet, all she could see was the lie.

She forced herself to walk down the aisle, her steps measured and deliberate. Each step felt heavier than the last, her chest tightening with every breath. When she reached Jason, she saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He must have sensed it—the change in her demeanor, the absence of joy in her gaze.

"Natalie," he whispered as she joined him at the altar, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You look beautiful."

She didn't respond.

The officiant began speaking, but Natalie barely registered his words. Her mind raced, replaying every moment of their relationship. The nights Jason had come home late, the unexplained phone calls, the times he had seemed distracted. How had she missed the signs?

When the officiant asked if anyone objected to the marriage, Natalie felt a lump rise in her throat. She glanced out at the crowd, at her parents, who were beaming with pride, at Jason's family, who looked equally delighted. They had no idea what was about to happen.

"I…" Natalie's voice faltered as she looked back at Jason. His smile faded, replaced by a look of concern.

"I can't do this," she said, her voice breaking.

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

Jason reached for her hand. "Natalie, what are you doing?" he whispered, panic flashing in his eyes.

She pulled her hand away. "I can't marry you, Jason. Not after what I found this morning."

His face paled. "Natalie, please, let me explain—"

"No." Her voice was firmer this time. "I deserve better than this. I deserve better than you."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked back down the aisle, her heart pounding as whispers and murmurs erupted behind her. She didn't stop until she reached the doors, her fingers fumbling to push them open. The cool air hit her face like a slap, but she welcomed it.

Tears blurred her vision as she climbed into her car, the wedding gown bunching awkwardly around her. She drove away from the church, the bouquet still clutched in her hand.

As the church faded into the distance, so did the life she had once imagined.